


A Templar's Secret

by rutherfords (seblaiens)



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst, Bad Flirting, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Humor, Oral Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 21:06:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10227344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seblaiens/pseuds/rutherfords
Summary: Five times Hawke tried to flirt with Cullen, and one time she succeeded.





	1. Five Times Hawke Tried to Flirt With Cullen

**Author's Note:**

> Skip to Chapter 2 if you're just here for the smut.

1.

 

Hawke hadn’t expected the Knight-Captain to be young and attractive. She’s always had a penchant to want the forbidden, and an apostate hiding in one of the cities with the most restricting Circles pining after the Knight-Captain, well… 

 

They couldn’t just dangle him in front of her nose and expect her to  _ not _ do anything about it. Sure, he looks ridiculous in the skirt, but Hawke’s spent enough time in Kirkwall to get used to Templars and their uniform. She never quite feared them as much as her father had told her to, and never as much as Bethany actually did - as long as she didn’t cast any spells in front of them, she wasn’t more to them but another person on the streets. If she wanted, Marian could hide quite well. She’s never been in a Circle, never had her blood taken to be made into a phylactery - there’s no way for them to know unless she did something stupid in public.

 

Cullen is adorably out of his depth when he talks about going to the Blooming Rose in order to find out more about his missing recruits, and it makes Hawke squeal internally at how adorable he is when his ears and cheeks flush red. The man had obviously never spent time in a brothel before - Marian wonders if he’s ever even  _ been _ with a woman. She knows some Templars take chastity vows, but usually it’s the men that wouldn’t have a chance anyway - never had she seen an attractive Templar who denied himself this carnal pleasure. Whenever Hawke finds herself in the vicinity of the Blooming Rose - and for not indulging that often, it’s quite surprising how often she ends up there - recruits and senior Templars alike have their fun with the girls and boys inside. Marian is pretty sure the brothel makes most of its money taking care of the frustrated Templars who aren’t allowed to indulge with neither the mages, nor their comrades. 

 

“I’ll go to the Blooming Rose for you,” Hawke decides. It wouldn’t harm her, helping Cullen out a little, maybe even give her some protection should rumours about her being a mage spread. If she’s already rubbing shoulders with the Knight-Captain, the Knight-Commander might be more forgiving as well, and there was no way in hell Meredith would meet with just anybody. Cullen is her best bet. “I could ask the girls if they do house visits as well, if you’re uncomfortable. Or I could help out, personally.” 

 

She’s laying on a bit thick, and she hears Aveline try to stifle a groan behind her, but she has no idea how to flirt with a Templar. She’s only ever flirted with a few men from Lothering, the occasional woman who was rumoured to be interested in other girls, but she’s never tried her look with anybody with status. Might as well start being ambitious when in Kirkwall, and try to charm the armour off the Knight-Captain.

 

“Rather not,” Cullen says, furrowing his brows and crossing his arms. He doesn’t seem impressed in the least with Hawke’s proposition, and Marian mentally curses herself. Of course she shouldn’t have stated this so openly - if he’s as virginal as she expects him to be, he wouldn’t go for someone practically asking him _ ‘hey, can you stick your dick in me?’ _

 

She wants it, though. Badly.

 

Cullen leaves eventually to go back to the Gallows, and the look Varric gives her is telling enough. Hawke shrugs her shoulders and grins, mouthing a ‘what’ at him.

 

“Did you not hear what he said about mages?” Varric asks, still looking at her as if she’d lost her mind. “He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy you want to hang around for longer than needed.”

 

“Yes, but…” Hawke sighs. “Did you _ see _ him?”

 

“You’re one of a kind, Hawke.”

 

“And he’s from Ferelden! Something something, stay with your own kind…”

 

“Sure. Try talking yourself out of it when you’re lying beneath him and accidentally shock the life out of him with your magic.”

 

“Hey!” Hawke protests, putting her hands at her waist, “who told you about that?”

 

Varric laughs as they make their way back to Kirkwall, leaving behind the blighted Wounded Coast. “I’ve got my intelligence on everybody, even you.”

 

“Who’s talking about my sex life, huh? Spill it, dwarf!”

 

“Not a chance.”

 

2.

 

“I’ve been hearing disturbing rumours about you, Hawke. I hope they’re not true.” Cullen practically sneers at her, and Marian’s heart stops still for a second. She’s been careful enough to not be seen in the open casting magic, but she guesses she can’t keep it a secret forever - she’s not very skilled with a sword, and the first time she’d be forced to show how in the Fade she had killed so many thugs in Darktown, people would catch on. 

 

_ Deflect, Marian,  _ she thinks to herself, wracking her brain for a way to throw Cullen off her trail. She remembers how flustered had been when she had started flirting with him, figuring if it worked once it could work a second time.

 

“Oh, about my roping skills? I assure you, all the guys I tied up, wanted it.”

 

Cullen’s mouth drops open, his eyes comically large. “That’s… not the rumours I was talking about.”

 

“Oh,” Marian says, feigning surprise. “What are you talking about, then?”

 

“I was talking about… nevermind.” Cullen clears his throat, crossing and uncrossing his arms. Hawke watches him squirm for a few seconds, not moving from her spot, until he glares at her and furrows his brows.   
  
“You shouldn’t be in the Gallows, anyway,” he says, shifting around on his spot. It’s almost comical, how fast Hawke can bring him out of his comfort zone. “Knight-Commander Meredith doesn’t like it when civilians come here unannounced.”

 

“I’ll announce myself the next time, then.” Hawke shrugs.

 

“You won’t get an invitation because you have no personal dealings with anyone in the Circle or within the Templar Order,” Cullen explains.

 

“What if I say that I can’t stand not seeing my favourite Knight-Captain?” Hawke asks, batting her eyelashes at Cullen, who flushes red but pretends to be annoyed by her question.

 

“This is not a jest, Hawke - the rules are clear, and even you have to follow them.”

 

“But following the rules is so boring, isn’t it?” Marian says, stepping even closer to Cullen. “Don’t you like breaking the rules once in awhile, Cullen?”

 

He slaps her hand away when she reaches out to touch his chest plate, a unnerved breath escaping him through his nose. She’s getting to him, but Marian knows she can only push so far before Cullen would push back, and not in a fun way. In a ‘you are banned from Kirkwall and anywhere else in the Free Marches’ way. A ‘by the way, the Templar Order has you on their list now’ way.

 

“Well, as nice as it was talking to  you,” Hawke says, stepping away, “I’ve really got to go home now. Still got someone tied up, you know, they can’t stay in bed all day.”

 

She laughs to herself as she walks away, imagining what must be going on ih Cullen’s head. One day, the Maker would strike down on her for enjoyment of teasing this man so much.

 

3.

 

Marian knows Carver must have heard the news about their mother already; it’s the talk of the city, a member of the Amell family killed by a blood mage. Marian hadn’t left the house in a few days, holing herself up in her room most of the time so no one would see her cry. Not that there were many people around to still see her breakdown - she had lost Bethany long ago, and Carver was stuck in the Gallows, not able to leave his position to take care of his sister. Her friends come around, offering varying degrees of comfort, but all Marian wants is her brother to hold her, tell her she still had some family left. 

 

So after a few days of absolute misery and not eating, she makes her way out of the door of their estate and takes a ferry to the Gallows. Carver is excused off his duty by the Knight-Captain, and Marian wants to cry into Cullen’s shirt she’s so thankful. She’s allowed inside Carver’s dorm room, and they lie on the bed together like they had done when they were still children and storms outside had woken the twins up. They had been easily frightened, tiptoeing across the floor to their sisters bed, careful not to wake their parents. For a time, they all had to share one room, Marian remembers - she hopes Carver doesn’t. Life had been miserable sometimes, when they had to move and couldn’t afford a house that had more than one room. It got better the older the twins got, until they eventually settled in Lothering,  but Marian still remembers the days she went to bed hungry, hearing her mother cry and her father trying his best to console her.

 

She sniffles against Carver’s chest, and her brother pulls her even closer, pressing his cheek against Marian’s head. If she wasn’t crying, Marian would have laughed - it’s the perfect mirror image of their childhood. The only thing missing is Bethany, and she weeps even harder when she imagines her sister with them now. 

 

“I tried to save her,” Marian croaks, “I came too late. She died in my arms.”

 

“You tried your best,” Carver mutters. It might be the nicest thing he’s said to her in years. “There’s nothing you can do against blood mages. It’s what the Templars are for.”

 

“I don’t know what to do without her.” She might be in her mid-twenties, but she’s never had to do without her mother before. After her father’s death, Marian had hoped she would die before she had to let her mother go as well. Or if not dead, taken to some Circle where she would never hear about her family again, like so many Amells before her. A clean cut, to soften the blow. 

 

“You’ll be fine,” Carver says, “you took care of us after father died, when mum was so sad she couldn’t get out of bed for months. You can get through this, too.”

 

“I wish you were home.”

 

“I know. I’ll ask the Knight-Captain if I can visit on the weekends.”

 

Marian sniffles, drying her eyes before looking up, a weak smile on her face. “He’ll have to say yes. He really likes me.”

 

Carver snorts. “If I had a copper for every time he complains about you and your friends…”

 

Marian laughs, but there are still tears streaming down her face. They stay in Carver’s room until nighttime when his roommate comes back from his shift, and after another long hug Marian has to face walking back to the Amell Estate. She wonders if she’ll make it, or if she’ll collapse in exhaustion and waste away from heartbreak midway through walking to Hightown. 

 

“Hawke!” She hears when she’s about to leave, turning around to see Knight-Captain Cullen walk towards her, still in his armour with the impressive shoulder pauldrons, looking like always just without the asshole expression on his face. Instead, he looks concerned, even… sad. “I heard about what happened to your mother. I’m truly sorry the  Templars couldn’t help in time.”

 

Marian nods, presses out a quiet ‘thank you’ before awkward silence falls between them. She watches as Cullen shifts on his feet, crosses and uncrosses his arms before stepping forwards to her. Marian lets out a surprised squeal when Cullen holds her against his chest, careful not to press her too hard against his armour. It’s far from comfortable, but she guesses the sentiment counts in this kind of situation. It’s a little embarrassing to be seen so vulnerable by Cullen, when before she had always been in charge of their interactions, shamelessly flirting with him, and she desperately tries to think of a joke to deescalate the situation. 

 

“Finally in the Knight-Captain’s arms. If it only took my mother to die for this to happen, I would have killed her long ago,” she sighs. Admittedly, it’s not her best, but it’ll have to do. It certainly annoys Cullen enough, since he lets her go and looks down sternly at her, almost as if scolding a child. He’s not much taller than her, but Marian still feels so small when he gets like this.

 

“I know you’re hurting, but you don’t need to always make jokes,” Cullen says, furrowing his brows. “Losing family is hard, and you and your brother should have the proper time to grieve.” 

 

Marian looks down at the ground, almost ashamed at herself. Cullen had shown him a vulnerable side, and she had destroyed the moment by thinking she should have the upper hand, even when Cullen wasn’t struggling to be the one in control but instead offered her some comfort. She’s not exactly proud of herself.

 

“I’m sorry,” she sighs. “It’s been… a long week.”

 

“Naturally.” Cullen nods at her before turning around and walking back to the Gallows. Marian looks after him, a sigh almost escaping her. He’s the first person outside of her friendship circle who has shown her compassion - and it says something, that he would do that even though he strongly suspects her of being a mage. She knows the rumours are going to come to a head sooner or later, and she hopes they won’t destroy whatever kind of tentative friendship has formed between the two of them. 

 

She’d visit the Gallows more often, Marian decides as she makes her way home. With Carver being a Templar now, it’s a good excuse to continue getting to know Cullen, and having friends in high places is never a bad thing.

 

4.

 

Being appointed as Viscount is… stressful. Kirkwall is in shambles after what Anders did, after all the fighting between the mages and Templars. Relief effort from Starkhaven and Ostwick are slowly coming after the news had spread, but there is not one day where Marian doesn’t go to bed exhausted, the horror stories of what happened to the civilians replaying in her mind, invading her dreams in the Fade and making her watch each of them die in agonising ways. Cullen is doing his best with the Templars, but she knows he’s overwhelmed as well - newly appointed Knight-Commander, as well. They’ve both moved on up in the world, but not in the way they wanted. 

 

Just like every day, Marian wonders if she had done the wrong thing. If she should have spared Anders, if she should have helped Orsino instead of Meredith. Maybe it would have worked out better if she had sympathised with Orsino more - he might have not turned towards blood magic in a desperate try to survive, to help the other mages in the Circle that now had died due to Meredith’s actions. And just like every night she asks herself those questions, she presses her eyes shut and the pillow over her ears, trying to block herself from the world that expects so much of her.

 

Cullen meets her almost every day, working closely together to not let a rift appear between the government and the Templar Order. Hawke knows just how much her mood is being dragged down by all her new responsibilities when she doesn’t even find it in her to flirt with Cullen anymore - instead of giddy happiness at being able to see him squirm just using her words, all she feels now when he walks into her office is comfort. She knows she can trust him more than anybody else in Kirkwall, right now. 

 

“Hawke,” Cullen nods as he takes place in front of her desk, on the chair he sits in at least five times a week for at least two hours to go over restoration plans and how to most efficiently pass out rations to the needy. “Any news from Starkhaven?”

  
“Sebastian is donating some money and food from the farms around the city,” Hawke sighs, “no idea when it will arrive. Some time in the next few weeks.”

 

“People will be starving in the streets soon, if he doesn’t hurry,” Cullen says, even though he knows she can’t make food appear any faster. “Orlais is sending aid in the Templar’s and Chantry’s name, but it’ll take weeks until it arrives as well. Nobody was… prepared, for something like this.”

 

Hawke sighs, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her eyes. She startles when she feels Cullen’s feet against hers, beneath the desk, trying to offer some comfort. They’re friends now, she supposes; the others had all left Kirkwall or were too busy to still spend time with her. The only people she still saw regularly were Aveline, Varric, and Merrill, and the latter only when it came to concerns in the alienage - Marian knows she had felt betrayed when siding with Meredith, after all she had done to the mages in the Circle. Marian doesn’t even know where Fenris and Isabela are - knowing them, they probably run off somewhere together, killing Tevinters. And Anders… she still feels sick when she remembers how easily the dagger had cut through his flesh. A knife through the back - a fitting imagine to the end of their relationship.

 

“So, Knight-Commander,” Marian sighs, dropping her hands to the chair. “How d’you feel about forgetting about work for one day and getting black-out drunk together? Maybe touch each others bits a little?”

 

Cullen laughs tiredly, leaning back in his chair, his armour clinking. “Tempting. But I’ll have to decline.”

 

Marian groans dramatically, raising her arms to the sky. “Maker, here I am, having sided with the craziest Knight-Commander in history, and he still doesn’t let me fondle him!” She lowers her arms again, winking at Cullen who is still grinning at her, though it doesn’t seem genuine anymore. He looks so tired, his hair longer than usual, having lost its shine. His eyes are dull, and dark circles make them look almost lifeless. Hawke knows she doesn’t look much better herself, but it’s different to see it on another. “I’ll get drunk and touch myself, then.”

 

“Can’t stop you from doing that.”

 

“How would you, without bursting into my room at night while I’m three fingers deep into-”

 

“My cue to leave,” Cullen says, quickly standing up from the chair and walking towards the door leading out of her office. “I hope you can tell Prince Vael to hurry up a little - we need to feed the survivors or things will get even worse.”

 

“I’ll tell him to hurry up,” Hawke promises, waving Cullen out of her office, groaning in frustration after the door is closed behind him. This job is not her idea of a good time, and she’s yearning for the day she won’t be needed anymore. Varric would make a good Viscount - he loves this blighted city more than any normal person would. Maybe she’ll convince him to step into her footsteps, and she’ll be free to run away to the next best country, somewhere where she won’t be recognised any time she walks down the streets.

 

_ Yes _ , she thinks, smiling.  _ That would be quite nice. _

 

5.

 

The news of the Champion of Kirkwall arriving at Skyhold spreads like a wildfire. Cullen had already seen Cassandra shooting Varric dirty looks whenever they were in each other’s vicinity, and he’s just waiting for them to publically have a go at each other. He understands both sides, really - they had needed an Inquisitor, of course, and Hawke had proven herself capable before, but he can also see Varric’s side. Marian had suffered through a lot in Kirkwall, and having to lead another movement after being thrust into a civil war before might have been too much for her. Not to mention she was probably sick of being seen of a Templar sympathiser, shunned by the rebel mages who had found refuge with the Inquisition. He hopes they’re not giving her too much trouble.

  
Cullen also blanches at the idea of Hawke getting that kind of power again, if he’s being honest. She and her merry band of misfits had wreaked havoc in Kirkwall, and Cullen isn’t sure she would have been the best fit to successfully lead the Inquisition without accidentally starting a few wars on the side. He respects the woman, but she’s a mess. She’d been a good fit as a Viscount in the most desperate times, but it’s good she had left as things had started to settle.

 

Mostly he tries to not think about Hawke, glad they haven’t crossed each other yet. He doesn’t think of the times they had spent together fondly - they had been hard years, for both him and her. It’s better to leave them in the past, forgotten and repressed. Cullen’s certainly doing a good job of it, focusing on his work and snatching himself a new report any time an old memory tries to invade his thoughts. 

 

It’s not that bad when it’s just Hawke his mind drifts off to. He’s had some time to grow up, and when he thinks back on the times she had flirted with him it just so happens that a smile appears on his lips. It’s funny, looking back at it - the apostate flirting with a Templar, who was trying his hardest to keep all the mages in the Circle. He often wonders if that’s why Hawke was constantly coming onto him, if she was teasing him because she was untouchable, even to Meredith. It must have been like that. He doubts that there had ever been any genuine attraction from her side. 

 

So it comes to much of a shock when he walks into his office one day and Marian Hawke is sitting in his chair, feet up on the table, going through one of the books from his shelf. She looks up at him when he closes the door, smiling at him and closing the book before setting it on the table, next to the stack of reports to the side.

  
“Cullen,” she says, her blue eyes almost sparkling in glee. “What a coincidence, you here, in your office.”

 

Cullen snorts. Maker, he kind of had missed the woman and her awful sense of humour. He looks her over, clad in her Champion armour with her staff leaning against his table. She still keeps her black hair short, strands of it falling into her face and partially obscuring one of her eyes. He wants to reach out and brush it back - it must be annoying to always have something in front of your eye. 

 

“What do you want?” Cullen asks, trying to hide his smile as he comes around the table and shoos her off his chair.

 

“Catch up with my favourite Templar, of course. It’s been way too long,” Marian replies, sitting on the table as Cullen sorts through reports, trying to find one with most pressing matters he had to attend to in order to find an excuse to throw Hawke out without offending her. “Ex-Templar, sorry,” she adds just as Cullen opens his mouth to correct her. “Can’t believe you, of all people, would turn your back on the  _ Maker’s Chosen _ .”

 

“It was a shock felt through all of Thedas, I know,” Cullen replies, dryly. He doesn’t want to get into it, not with her, not now. Hawke grins at his attempt at humour and thankfully changes the topic.

 

“So how’s life treating you? Gotten laid yet?” She asks just as Cullen is easing into his chair, and suddenly there are her legs on either side of his body, her feet resting on the armrests. Her crotch is right in front of his face, and Cullen turns his head away so quickly the bones in his neck crack. Hawke laughs again, leaning back on her elbows, sighing as she arches her back. “I could use a tumble with someone, need to loosen up a little.”

 

“I’m sure you can find someone willing,” Cullen says, grabbing Hawke’s legs and pushing them down from the chair, making her fall forward a little with a high-pitched squeak. He’s not about to let her play her games with him - he has enough to worry about, doesn’t need to add a clingy, apostate mage in his bed to the list as well.

 

“I can’t believe that after almost ten years you still refuse to make out with me.”

 

“Can’t give up my principles now, can I?” 

 

Marian slips off the table and rests her hip against it, grabbing for her staff and letting her fingers run over the smooth wood. Subtlety has never been her style, and she grins mischievously as he eyes her hands stroking over it, slender fingers gripping around the staff securely. 

 

“One day, Cullen. One day.”

 

“Don’t threaten me like that.”

 

“You’ll enjoy it.”   
  
“I sincerely doubt it.”

 

Hawke leaves his room, and Cullen can’t stop himself from smiling as she closes the door. It’s lifted his mood tremendously, that she doesn’t treat him any differently now, that they’re still on the same page. Time had been on a pause between them, their relationship still as playful as it had been when she was still serving as Viscount in Kirkwall - the breaks in her office had been his silver lining each day, the reason why he hadn’t lost his mind as he was helping the citizens drag corpses of their loved ones out beneath rubble. 

 

He rifles through his reports, stacking them neatly from where they’d been spread out from Hawke’s feet on his desk, stopping in his tracks when he stares down on one of his correspondences with Leliana. His smile vanishes and is replaced by a scowl when he reads the newly added words at the bottom of his page, where he had left off;

 

_ Cullen <3 Hawke _ , it reads in her chicken-scratch he had complained to her about before, when he couldn’t read her reports on the situation in High Town during her stint as Viscount.  _ Marian Hawke-Rutherford _ , it says inside little hearts, all over the page.

  
She’s unbelievable. 


	2. And One Time She Succeeded

\+ 1.

 

The air in the tavern is thick, the smell of food, alcohol, and sweat in the air. Cullen’s glad he’s had enough to drink that he doesn’t feel the headache he had all morning anymore - it seems beer is as good of a drug as any pain relief the healers at Skyhold have to offer. He’s on his fourth at least, and the noise inside the Herald’s Rest doesn’t even bother him anymore. Maryden is playing the lute on the floor below, and it reminds him of the few times he and his friends had snuck out to taverns during their Templar training. Cullen feels almost as though nothing at all was wrong with him, if it wasn’t for the constant cold that settles in his extremities. He’s sure his toes and fingers would freeze one day, fall clean off his body. It certainly feels like an actual possibility, right now.

 

The evening started out with Varric, Cassandra, Hawke, and him - drinking to the old times in Kirkwall, Varric had said with a wink. After a while, The Iron Bull had sat beside them with the rest of his Chargers, and sometime after that Sera had come out of her room to check what was going on outside. Cullen likes the girl, even though he doesn’t know what to say to her sometimes. As the evening stretches on, more members of the Inquisition and a few of his recruits are sitting all around them, drinking and telling stories. The only people missing are Vivienne, Cole, and Blackwall, who are somewhere in the Hinterlands together with the Inquisitor, and Solas, who never shows his face in the Herald’s Rest. Cullen is glad he has no dealings with following the Inquisitor into the field - it’s a little bit too close to home. He had been to Redcliffe a few times as a child, his parents taking him there to the market when they were selling their wares. He remembers just too well how Branson and Rosalie would throw tantrums because they weren’t allowed to come with their parents, Mia, and him, but they had been too young back then, would have starting complaining after just an hour on the horses. The trip had always taken them more than a day, and the younger children had been left behind with neighbors.

 

Cullen wonders if Honnleath had been rebuilt after the Blight had been stopped. He might have to send a scout in the region tomorrow, try to find out if the few people he still remembers had survived.

 

“Why are you looking so grim?” 

 

Cullen looks to his side, where Hawke is straddling the bench between her legs, turned towards him. She had forgone her heavy Champion armour in favour of simple leather trousers and a tunic that was about three sizes too big for her. She’s not a small woman, almost as tall as him, but the man’s shirt makes her look a lot smaller. He finds he likes her better this way - less intimidating.

 

“Just… thinking,” Cullen says, stretching his fingers, trying to get rid of the persistent cold that has settled in the tips.

 

“So weird, seeing you this quiet,” Hawke says, scooting closer towards him. “I only know you as the Knight-Captain constantly going on about how great he is, how much he loves serving the Order, and how it’s his duty to hunt after those  _ dangerous _ apostates.”

 

Cullen grimaces. “You also know me as the Knight-Commander who tried his best to atone for what he’d done, don’t you?” 

 

“Yes, but I don’t like him nearly as much as the guy who straight up told me that mages aren’t people. To my face. My face, the face of an apostate.”

 

“I never said mages aren’t people,” Cullen says, furrowing his brows. “I said… you can’t treat mages like... I didn’t mean…”

 

Hawke laughs, patting his shoulder. “It’s alright, we all have those moments. You have no idea what I used to say about Templars until my brother became one.”

 

“Where is he now?” Cullen asks. He remembers Carver Hawke well - he’d stayed and served under him when Cullen had taken over the responsibilities as Knight-Commander, helping with relief efforts and trying to rebuild Kirkwall. They never had a close relationship, but due to circumstances Carver and he had gotten to know each other better than Cullen had known any other of the lower-ranking Templars. 

 

“Aveline took him away when the Templars started acting strangely,” Hawke says, playing with the bottle in her hand, her eyes cast downwards. “I had to get him out of there - he started getting in trouble because of being my brother, you know. Even though I sided with the Templars, most of them still hated my guts.”

 

Cullen hums in acknowledgement. Some people within the Order hadn’t been happy with him working closely together with Marian, but none of them had dared to say anything to his face. It doesn’t surprise him that they turned on her and Carver when he wasn’t around to protect them. “I hope they didn’t give you too much trouble.”

 

“Nah, they just threatened us until I stepped down as Viscount,” Hawke jokes, but Cullen hears the bitterness she’s trying to hide. It makes him feel uncomfortable, realising that if he had done more he could have changed the Templars’ minds about keeping Hawke in charge. She had done only good things for Kirkwall after the explosion and Meredith’s death. “I guess it was public knowledge that Anders and I…”

 

“We don’t have to bring up the past, if you don’t want to,” Cullen says, knowing it must be hard for her to speak of Anders. It’s not easy for him to think of his time in the Free Marches, and it must be just as hard for her, if not harder. 

 

“Not keen on being reminded of all the dumb stuff you said back then?”

 

“Oh, I have dirt on you, too, Marian, don’t even try.”

 

“Marian?” She smiles at him, fluttering her lashes. “Are we on a first name basis now?”

 

“You’ve always called me by my first name. I’m just evening out the playing field.”

 

“Well, to be fair,” Hawke says, shrugging, “I always thought Cullen  _ was _ your surname. It wasn’t until I became Viscount that I found out your full name, Cullen _ Stanton _ Rutherford.”

 

Cullen grumbles, but a smile pulls at his lips. He tries to hide it by taking a sip of his beer, but he lowers the bottle again when Marian scoots even closer to him on the bench, her torso practically pressed against his shoulder. When he feels a hand on his thigh Cullen snaps his head towards her, narrowing his eyes at the woman. She looks at him, the picture of innocence, taking a sip to hide the devious grin on her lips - she knows that he’s drunk, that he gets chatty and easy-going after a few beer. For some reason, Cullen can’t find it in his mind to care that she’s still trying to seduce him after being shot down so often. It’s admirable, really, and he’s jealous of her stamina.

 

“Not to bring up the past yet again,” Hawke whispers into his ear after leaning in, her lips brushing over the shell of his ear, making shivers run down Cullen’s back and his cock twitch in his trousers, “but I’m still very much interested.”

 

Cullen breathes out a nervous chuckle, his eyes darting around the room to make sure no one was watching them too intently. His eyes are caught by The Iron Bull, who just nods and grins at him before turning back to Krem, who is avidly telling a story - something involving swords, Cullen gathers from watching his gestures. He can’t hear anything except Hawke’s proposition echoing in his head. 

 

“I-” Cullen says, clearing his throat when his voice cracks, “Marian…”

 

“Come on, one time with a mage won’t kill you. Probably. ”   
  
“It’s not because you’re a mage,” Cullen says quickly, touching her leg for a second before realising it’s less comforting and more suggestive than he meant it to be, “it’s because you’re… well, you’re  _ you _ .”

 

“Maker, you really know how to sweet-talk a girl.”

 

Cullen laughs, putting his elbows on the table and hiding his face inside his hands. Hawke’s hand is still on his thigh, and even though he knows he should probably push her away, he instead decides to enjoy the feeling of a woman touching him just a few minutes more. It’s been a long time since it last happened, after all - he’s not like Bull, he can’t go to one of the girls in the tavern and hit on them until they agreed to come up to his tower. Hell, even if he got that far, the fact that he doesn’t have a roof would probably scare them away. It tended to get quite drafty, but he doesn’t want to spend months outside of his office while they fixed it up. 

 

He rests his chin on his hands, looking around the tavern. There’s quite a few soldiers of his trying to chat up the female recruits, even some who are trying their luck with the mages recruited from Redcliffe. Most of them aren’t Templars, he knows, but as he lets his eyes jump from face to face, he can pick out some of them who are. They still have their arms slung around the waists of the girls, no care in the world for how different their relationships would be were it not for the Inquisition. 

 

Marian’s hand drifts between his legs and Cullen remembers the last time he had felt so desperate he had visited a brothel, choosing the most normal looking girl in there because he had felt intimidated by the more beautiful ones. Hawke’s good looking - he can’t use that excuse, either. 

 

“Come on, Cullen…” Marian giggles into his ear, probably even more drunk than him, “I bet nobody’s ever used magic with you in bed. It’s an experience.”

 

“I’ve never fucked a mage,” Cullen says, keeping his voice low so nobody would overhear them. He’s aware people took notice of how close Hawke and he are sitting together - if he’d turn his head a little, he’d be able to pick up Varric’s astounded stare. 

 

“Well, what a _ golden _ opportunity. I’ll give you a taste for it.”

 

Cullen laughs, sitting back and turning towards Marian a little. He might as well accept her offer - he’s fairly sure everyone would know about it the day after Marian would tell Varric, and he might end up in a new romance novel about a Templar and an apostate, but he just can’t find it in him to care anymore. 

 

“Alright,” he shrugs, watching for Hawke’s reaction. She looks surprised for the fraction of a second before she’s grinning at him, and then she throws her legs over his lap, practically sitting on top of him. “But not in here!”

 

“Of course not, this is foreplay.” Cullen’s protest is muffled by Hawke’s lips against his, her tongue parting his lips before it’s stroking over his teeth, and he can hear someone whistling at them and a few hollers in the background. He’s not drunk enough to  _ not  _ be ashamed, so he’s quick to push Marian away, if not off his lap then at least out of reach for more public kisses. He groans as she shifts on top of him, her thigh pressing against his cock.

 

“Get a room, you tossers!” 

  
Cullen doesn’t bother checking who had yelled after them as Marian pulls him out of the tavern, walking towards his Tower at a brisk pace. They don’t pass anyone except some guards, who look at Cullen with shocked expressions. He can only shrug, biting his tongue so he doesn’t say something stupid. He feels like a teenager, scolded for spending private time with his sweetheart even though his parents forbade them from closing the door to his room - he’s never had that experience, but he’s seen his parents get mad at Mia for this reason before.

 

“Get up there,” Hawke says as they finally enter his office, pointing to the ladder that leads into his bedroom. 

 

“You just want to look at my bottom.”

 

“Guilty.”

 

Cullen snorts but complies, already starting to shed his armour as Marian follows him up. The puts it on a rack in the corner, taking off his fur and gloves and setting them in the chest next to the bed. Only wearing shoes, a tunic, and his trousers he turns back to Hawke who has sprawled out on his bed already, her feet hanging off the edge. 

 

“Don’t get my sheets dirty,” Cullen chastises, getting on his knees in front of her and unlacing her boots. 

 

“Oh, they’re about to get very,  _ very _ dirty,” Marian winks at him, but she fails at only closing on of her eyes, turning her attempt into a very long blink. Cullen shakes his head at her, getting up from his knees with a stumble and sitting down so he can take off his shoes as well. He hears Marian shifting behind him, settling behind him before her hands creep beneath his shirt, stroking over his abdomen.

 

“I knew you had nice muscles!” she exclaims, sounding very pleased with herself as she strokes over his six-pack. “You don’t run around in a plate armour every day and not look like you spend all your time getting fit.”

 

“So why don’t you have a six-pack?” Cullen asks. Even though he hasn’t seen her naked yet, he just knows that there’s no way that she is as muscular as him.

 

“Ah,” Hawke says, pulling out her hands and poking her own stomach, “loving food and beer a bit too much lately, I’m afraid.”

 

“I don’t mind,” Cullen says, turning around as he finally gets his boots off, grabbing the hem of Marian’s tunic and pulling it over her head. She’s not wearing anything beneath, her nipples hardening at the cold breeze in his bedroom. He reaches out and takes her plump breasts in hand, stroking his thumbs over the hard nubs.

 

“Your hands are freezing,” Marian complains, shuddering under his touch. She scowls as Cullen shrugs and pushes her onto her back, unlacing her breeches and pulling them down together with her smallclothes, leaving her naked in front of him. She’s beautiful, wide hips and a nice thighs, and Cullen wants nothing more than to put his head between her legs. He gets off the bed again, ridding himself of his remaining clothes before climbing on top of Marian, kissing her deeply again as his hands explore her body. When he can’t take it anymore, he slides down the bed and spreads her for his mouth, touching his tongue lightly to her clit.

 

“Maker, even your tongue is cold!” Marian yelps, closing her legs around Cullen’s head, trapping him in-between her thighs. Cullen’s breath against her pussy, hot and wet, is the only thing warming her up in the freezing cold of Cullen’s bedroom.

 

“Do you want to do this or not?” He grumbles, moving his icy fingers from her waist down to her hips, squeezing the soft flesh.

 

“Keep going.”

 

Cullen huffs, but at least he’s licking over her clit again, flicking it up and down before letting his tongue trail down further to lick over her hole. Hawke isn’t sure where he had learned to do this - she’s fairly sure Cullen had never gotten laid in Kirkwall with how devout he had been to the Templars and Meredith, barely ever spending time outside the Gallows. The only time she had heard people talking about him visiting the Blooming Rose was when he was looking for missing recruits, and even then people said he had barely glanced at the whores mingling there.

 

“You’re actually _ good _ at this,” Marian moans, threading her fingers through Cullen’s hair, who rolls his eyes, though doesn’t stop. He knows he’s good at it - the few times he’s gone down on girls they had all felt the need to tell him about it, and he has to admit; it’s quite the ego-boost, seeing Hawke writhing on his bed, the mighty Champion of Kirkwall, slayer of the Arishok, reduced to a whimpering lump. He chuckles before closing his lips around Hawke’s clit, hearing her cry out as he softly sucks on it, and he hasn’t even brought his fingers into play yet. “Did they teach you this in Templar training?”

 

“No, the only woman I was bent on pleasing during my training was Andraste.”

 

Hawke laughs and Cullen has to grin as well, hiding it by pressing in closer between her legs before he brings his hand between them as well, pushing his middle finger into her cunt. He hears her sigh, and her legs spread a little farther as if to tell him that he could use more,  _ should  _ use more, and he adds a second finger before pressing upwards, towards her abdomen. Hawke’s thighs quiver and her hips raise slightly from the bed, pressing her groin into his face.

 

All Cullen can smell and taste is  _ her, _ and for a second he wonders if she’ll even let him fuck her if he gets her off like this - she has to, he’s sure. She didn’t flirt with him for ten years just to let him go down on her, but then again they’re talking about  _ Hawke _ . He’s never been good at judging her next move, and she’s always done the exact opposite of what he had expected her to do, back in Kirkwall. He decides to push his worries to the back of his mind and just enjoy this as long as it lasts, darting his tongue into her hole together his fingers, trying to taste even more of her. Marian’s close, he can feel it in the way her pussy clenches around him, and he knows she would only take a few more licks to her clit before coming. He decides to tease her instead, letting his tongue run up and down without touching her there directly once, his fingers alternating between fucking into her and pushing against her walls.

 

“Andraste’s fucking  _ whatever _ ,” Hawke groans out, and Cullen laughs when she puts her hands onto his head, pushing him so that his mouth is directly on her clit and holding him in place. He decides that this has gone on long enough, doing his best to get her off as fast as possible with hard strokes to her clit, up and down before he switches to circles. Marian’s fingers dig into his skull, pulling at his hair as she comes, her hips pressing into his face as she groans out her release. 

 

Cullen pulls out his fingers after a few seconds, pressing a few more kisses all over her crotch, down the sides of her thighs and on her abdomen, before she takes his chin in hand and makes her look up a him.

 

“My turn,” Hawke slurs, smiling down at him before pulling at his hair. Cullen yelps as she maneuvers him onto his back, slapping against his thighs to make him spread his legs for her, and she settles in front of his half-hard cock, looking at it with a frown on her face. “You’re not even hard yet.”

 

“Maybe do something about that?” 

 

Hawke rolls her eyes before wrapping her hand around Cullen’s cock, spreading what little pre-come had gathered at the tip down his shaft. She leans forward to take him into her mouth, sucking softly to get used to the taste and feel of him on her tongue - it’s been a long time since she’s pleased a man like that, and she wants to make it perfect for him. His cock twitches in her hands, slowly filling and getting harder. She likes his size - she can wrap her hand around the base of his cock and still have something to suck on. She pulls off after a few seconds, her gaze flickering up to watch him as she lets her tongue trail down his shaft to his balls. His eyes are closed, his arms crossed beneath his head to prop himself up. His legs are twitching open even wider, almost as if to invite her to lick lower… Marian bites back a grin, grabbing his cock a little harder to distract him from the fact that she’s taking her own finger into her mouth, licking over it until it’s coated in saliva and then pressing it behind his balls, searching for her target.

 

“Oh- alright, stop!” Cullen yelps, his hands flying down to grab her hand and pull it away from his hole. 

 

“You’re so boring,” Marian huffs, wiping her finger on the bed sheets before lying down on her back, next to Cullen. She’s not in the mood to blow him if he won’t even let her have a little fun with it.

 

Cullen almost growls, climbing on top of her, his legs between hers. He reaches between their bodies to line his cock up with her pussy, rubbing over her clit with the head a few times before lightly resting it against her hole. Hawke knows he wants her to cry out for it, wants her to tell him again how much she wants him to fuck her. She’s said it so often before, she doesn’t really understand why she doesn’t want to admit it now, when she has him _ this _ close already.

 

Hawke glares up at him, and if he wasn’t on top of her she would cross her arms and pout like a petulant child. He just stares back, grinning, his face flushed. It’s the first time she’s seen him like this, not prim and proper for once in his life. 

 

“Come on, Marian,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss her again, pressing his tongue into her mouth, “asking me one more time won’t kill you.”

 

“Fine,” she spits, rolling her eyes. “Fuck me. Please.”

 

“All right,” Cullen chuckles, and then he’s pressing into her, his cock splitting her open. The first press in always feels best, and Marian holds onto his arms as he pushes and pushes, until she can feel his groin against hers, pressing against her clit. She can’t hold back a low moan, burying her fingernails in his biceps as he begins thrusting into her with a steady rhythm, coaxing more and more noises out of her. It’s been way too long since she got laid, and she can already feel herself getting close again. Cullen’s cock fills her so well, stretching her just right, but she has other plans for this evening as well, and if she wants them to work out she’ll have to put them in motion  _ now _ .

 

Cullen groans when Hawke pushes at his shoulders, hissing at him to lie down on his back. He doesn’t want to pull out - it feels way too good to be inside her, all warm and wet, tight around his cock. The thought of how it would be to see her bouncing on top of him gets him through it, though, and soon enough she’s climbing on top of him, her thighs on either side of his body. She’s leaning forwards, her tits hanging practically in his face as she lowers herself onto his cock, some of her wetness running down to his balls. 

 

“Watch this,” Hawke mutters, raising her hands so they’re hovering slightly above Cullen’s chest. He opens his eyes just as a small spark of electric magic snaps down from Hawke’s hands onto his nipples, causing Cullen to cry out - more in shock than in pain. 

 

“What in the void - Hawke!” he yells as she does it again, giggling as his hands snap up to grab around her wrists. 

 

“Come on, I’ve never heard anybody saying that it didn’t turn them on.”

 

“Well, I’ll be the first,” Cullen huffs, tightening his grip on her hands. “Don’t do it again.”

 

“Oh, you’re no fun,  _ Ruther-bore _ .” 

 

Cullen rolls his eyes, but he trusts Marian enough to let go of her wrists, resting his hands on her thighs instead, urging her to move more. She takes the hint, lazily grinding her groin down. She’s too drunk to move a lot - fast movements would make her light-headed, and she’d rather save herself the embarrassment of falling off Cullen’s cock and maybe his bed just because she was too eagerly bouncing on top of him.

 

Cullen huffs beneath her, tapping her ass to tell her that he’s getting bored of the pace, urging her to go faster.

  
“I’m not a horse,” Marian says, scowling down at him.

 

“Put some effort into it.”

 

“I’m putting in plenty of effort.” Hawke stops moving completely, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She knows it must look ridiculous, her sitting on his cock and getting mad at him. “You just don’t appreciate a bit of magic helping.”

 

“I don’t want you to shock me to death,” Cullen argues, holding onto her hips and trying to move her up and down, to no avail. Hawke’s set on torturing him by letting him be inside of her, but not allowing him to chase his own release. 

 

“Please,” Hawke rolls her eyes, “you say that as if I have no control over my magic. You’ve seen what I can do.”

 

“I’ve seen you meddle with Kirkwall’s politics, if that’s what you mean,” Cullen growls, finally getting tired of trying to get her to move and pushing her off him, maneuvering her onto her hands and knees and getting behind her. He lines up his cock with her cunt, pressing back in and not giving Hawke any time to adjust to the change in angle before he sets a brisk pace, pulling her back by her hips with every thrust in. He can hear her breath hitching as she drops onto her elbows, keeping her ass up in the air for him.

 

Cullen lets his hands wander from her torso to her ass, spreading her cheeks a little until he can see her hole. By the unashamed way she had tried to slip a finger into him, he guesses she’s got experience in that area - Cullen’s never tried anything, and he’s not too keen on experimenting on himself, but he feels as though he needs to take his revenge while he can. He hears Hawke squeak in surprise when he spits, his saliva running down her crack before he pushes his thumb into her slowly. He doesn’t want to hurt her, and he’s heard that this takes a lot of oil and preparation to even feel good. 

 

“Mmm,” Marian wiggles her butt at him, looking at him over her shoulder. “You know, this isn’t punishment. I actually like this.”

 

“I’ve gathered that much,” Cullen says dryly, stopping his thrusts so he can concentrate on what his hand is doing more. It’s a bit too dry to finger her, but it’s enough so he can rest the tips of two fingers inside of her, feeling her clench around him so much tighter than her cunt. He might have to… explore this further, at another time, but for now he pulls his fingers out again in favour of fucking into her again.

 

Hawke sighs, reaching between her legs to stroke over her clit in time with Cullen’s thrusts, getting herself closer and closer to the edge. It’s usually hard for her to come when she’s drunk, but the mix of excitement and Cullen’s obvious experience makes her almost forget about the amount of alcohol in her blood. Cullen’s thrusts start becoming irregular, his hands gripping and going lax at her waist - he’s close to coming. Marian moans, partly because she finds the idea so hot, but also to put on a show, make it even more enjoyable for Cullen, who grips her hard and starts swearing. Hawke laughs breathlessly, pushing her face into the sheets and rubbing over her clit until she comes, clenching around Cullen’s cock, making him spill inside of her. A strangled gasp leaves his mouth, his fingers digging into Marian’s sides as he pulls her as tightly against him as possible, grinding his hips into her crotch.

 

It takes a few seconds, then he starts stroking over her back, coming down from his high, and then he’s pulling out. Hawke collapses on the bed, staying on her front as Cullen lets himself fall beside her. He’s breathing heavily, and Hawke can smell sweat on him. Without the warmth of his body against her, the draft that comes through through the ceiling chills her body, and she kicks up the duvet that has bunched up at the end of the bed until she can grab it with her hands, curling it around her and shifting onto her side. She pulls a face when she can feel Cullen’s come trickle out of her, but she’s not bothered enough to clean up - it’s not her sheets she’s dirtying. 

 

Cullen sighs behind her, lifting the covers and slipping in behind her. A hesitant kiss is pressed against her neck, and she grabs his arms and wraps then around her. She’s cold enough to lose a bit of her dignity and let herself be cuddled after getting her brain fucked out, but she’s not about to go all mushy on Cullen.

 

“Huh. I thought it would be… better,” Hawke says, and Cullen’s eyes almost bug out of his skill. He has half the mind to push Hawke off his bed and throw her down into his office without her clothes on, but before he can even say anything she continues talking. “I mean, it was good, but definitely not worth ten years of fantasising.”

 

“Maybe it would have gotten you off more if I was still Knight-Captain,” Cullen grumbles, turning his back to her. She hurt his pride. He isn’t bad in bed, he knows this, had had several girls tell him before that they had enjoyed his performance, but being told by one of the most famous people in modern Thedas that it hadn’t been anything to write home about stung. “Illicit love affair - that’s why you started this whole thing, didn’t you?”   
  
“At first,” Hawke admits, spooning him and pressing her lips against his shoulder. “Later it was because you became Knight-Commander.”

 

Cullen rolls his eyes as Marian laughs at her own joke, shrugging his shoulders to show that he doesn’t want to be held in her arms. He’d really appreciate if she took a page out of the age old hook-up book and left already. He wants to be alone when he wakes up tomorrow morning, regretting every decision he had made the night before. 

 

“You’re not as funny as you think you are, Hawke.”

 

“Cullen, please, I’m hilarious.” He grunts, but she can see the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Just imagine all the material Varric is going to get out of this when I tell him about it.”

 

“Maker’s breath, you’re not going to go into detail are you?”

 

“Relax, the size of all your important bits will stay a mystery to the rest of Thedas.”

 

“Good.”

  
  
  


It’s months later that a manuscript turns up on Cullen’s desk, titled _ ‘A Templar’s Secret.’  _ He knows what it is before even turning the first page, heat shooting up in his face as he quickly hides it in one of the drawers in his desk - he’d burn it after paging through it. He’s not going to read the whole thing, but he wants to make sure the protagonist isn’t called Callum or anything obvious.

 

He stays up until the morning reading that night, reading about Martin’s and Carrie’s struggles to be together, a smile forming on his lips when he closes the book as it gradually gets brighter outside of his tower. Carrie leaves the Templar’s in the end, running away with Martin, both of them growing old and happy together. It’s a fitting end for the characters, Cullen thinks, thinking fondly of Hawke and where she would be right now. Her journey to Weisshaupt must have taken months, but she should be there already.

  
Maybe he should send some Inquisition scouts, gets some intelligence exchange with the Wardens going. 

  
He’ll talk to Leliana at the next War Table meeting.


End file.
